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July 2010

July 30, 2010

I thought I would write about the first time I had deja-vu, but I don't remember it.

I've written about the first time I drove a car. For a Spin, no less.

Hmm..

Man, Tulpen has stumped me on this one.

Oh, wait! I could write about my first wedding!

Yes, I had too. (I purposely spelled it that way to poke at John and his grammar police ways. Aren't we just meant for each other?)

I'm taking you back to October of 2001...

Sitting in the living room of my parents' best friends after a meal with them and my parents, a common Saturday night event when we were living in the area, hey, don't knock it, they kicked ass at dominoes and their topics made John and me wonder why OUR friends weren't that funny , we were talking about our upcoming wedding which was still over 10 months away. John was halfheartedly listening in as he maneuvered back and forth between the women's conversation and the men's, joining in enough to make the appropriate sounds that, yes, it still felt like forever to go, and having been engaged for over a year made it seem like we were in matrimonial purgatory.

My mother and Roni discussed the plans, the decorations, the visions we all had for how the ceremony and reception would play out. Even our theme, "Twilight in the Garden", picked long before Stephanie Myers made Websters add another definition to the word, was dissected, as I sat on the floor, my torso nestled between John's legs.

Lamenting about the fact that I just wanted to get the wedding over and done with, this planner was planned out, I came out with, "I wish we would just elope. Get married now."

Roni burst out laughing before calling my bluff. "Why don't you?"

I stared at her. My mom stared at her. And call off the huge extravaganza that we had already sunk so much money into? Was she nuts?

Well, yes, but in a loving way. (Everyone needs a Roni in their life. In fact, you probably have one. If you are close to a woman who is a no nonsense, take charge kind of a lady who loves everyone, but won't take your crap, you have a Roni.) "Roni, what about-"

"Elope now! Keep the wedding going for next September, but do yourselves the favor and get the marriage thing over and done with now."

I looked up to John, who had now rejoined the topic at hand. He was interested. So was I.

I had never wanted the big wedding. I would have preferred something small, but with our families, (we both come from very big extended families) our guest list was over 100 before we even considered the friends portion. Without even trying, we were looking at and saving for a big shebang.

It was stressing us out.

"So, just run off to the town hall and do it?"

"Oh, no!" my mother interjected, "I better be there."

"Mom, of course, but... What if we do it at your house?"

Her eyes lifted.

Roni took over, "yeah, there's plenty of room there for just the immediate family and a handful of friends. Put some noshes on the table, call a justice of the peace, and done."

For some reason, it just made sense. It took the entire serious aspect off the big wedding and turned it into one big party. And John and I were all for that.

So, November 16, 2001, on a Friday evening, we invited twenty people over to my parents' home for a relaxing get together, most of them unaware of our plans until the notary arrived and we took our places in the family room to exchange vows. The bride wore black. The groom wore shorts. After the "I do's", I was sent out on a Starbucks run. You know, your run of the mill wedding scenario.

Ten months later, dressed to the nine's, we renewed our vows in front of 150 people, a minority of whom was actually in on our secret.

I didn't get this idea until Wednesday night when I was having a marathon catch-up call with my dear friend whose name I cannot mention as she does read this blog, and even though she knows I'm doing this, we're just covering bases here.

Anyway, she's pregnant with her second (yes, a baby, no, not a puppy) and was mentioning to me all the statements her relatives would give her while pregnant with the first, and now currently.

"You need to choose a name for the baby before it's born, or it will have eye problems." I had to laugh at this one. I'm not sure if it was eye or ear problems or even behavioral, I was giggling so loudly she had to repeat herself a few times.

"You can't have a baby until you read the newspaper." Does CNN.Com count?

"Kids should stay home until kindergarten. Putting your child in preschool will make him a bully." (We're currently in the process of changing Sprite's moniker to "Spike" just to get her ready for her imminent status.)

Oh, she went on with some gems, but I interrupted her to ask if I could use them in the Spin Cycle, because I've grown up with some strange rules myself, only to have these beliefs de-bunked later on, like when I swallowed a cherry pit when I was six and my mom teased me that a plant would now grow in my stomach. I remember a solid week of opening my mouth to see as far into my throat as possible to spot a stalk of green.

July 28, 2010

I can't tell you how much it meant to me to read those comments yesterday and realize just how much I resemble all of you. In the spirit of parenthood, all of our torches seem to burn brightest when it comes to protecting our young.

I love you for that. Honest.

Yes, I should have contacted management or the police that day and made the man explain himself, but by the time I took control of my emotions, he was so far gone and I wasn't sure if I was coming or going, it just didn't occur to me until after the fact.

Yes, I should have called out the greeter for her inactions. (It was brought to my attention by a friend that the greeters are most likely trained to not get involved in any altercations to avoid any liability on the store's behalf. Welcome to our litigious society, here's your subpoena..)

The shoulda coulda's stayed with me for a while.

I absolutely love the comment made by Jen: "..i've tried teaching my children that if someone tries to take you ... you need to yell 'THIS IS NOT MY MOMMY/DADDY!' " (And folks, I've been a reader of hers for a long time. If she uses her Caps Lock, she is dead serious.) I am immediately going to change my teaching strategy to reflect this statement. It is everything it should be as well as a warning flag to other people in the area that something is not right.

Jen also made the comment that she was interested in working on something to put out to help with teaching/ learning about stranger danger. I cannot get onboard that train quick enough. Whatever age, even the TEENS, all kids need to be taught about strangers and what to do when a stranger approaches them.

I made a trip to Barnes and Noble the morning after this incident (I call it an incident since it seems less abrasive than "nightmare") and asked the head of the children's department, my friend Trish, if they had any books for stranger danger. She immediately found one, but skimming through it proved it was targeted for kids above the age of seven. We weren't able to find anything meant for young kids, kids not old enough to read but definitely old enough to call attention to themselves when they need to.

Google wasn't much help either. Other than the Berenstein Bears, I wasn't able to find any other titles that would relate to kiddies.

I think this is needed. I think this is something that parents need to be proactive on, not reactive as I was. I had been teaching Sprite about stranger danger, but not pushing anything. Now, I think I've overdone it with the rush of cautions, the bombardment of drills on who is a stranger and who isn't.

In the days after the "incident", she has been more clingy, more afraid of dark spaces, public places, even of her room. After a first night of burning all watts until she fell asleep, John had the brilliant idea of closing the dogs in with her to keep watch over the unknowns that attack a young child's imagination. For the past week, they've been biding their time until she finally hits the snooze button for the night before we release them to their own pillows. It has helped in the fact that now, she can fall asleep without hurting her retinas with all the electricity (plus, the airport called, we were a distraction to the incoming flight patterns) and we don't have to come running at every cry.

For a solid week, I fielded strong (wickedly strong) hugs to both my legs forcing me into a standstill as I would make dinner, repeatedly telling her to go sit in the other room, a room where she has full view of me, can hear me. Time after time, I would become more irritated as my little shadow followed me too closely before I was yelling at her that she wouldn't get dessert, get to go to the pool on the weekend, anything, just PLEASE SIT DOWN! I'M RIGHT HERE! NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO YOU!

I started it with my initial reaction to her being lifted by an unknown man. With John's help, I finished it by practicing patience, tagging out for a breather and letting John take the brunt of her heavy handed love. We seem to be back on solid ground now since the past few days have brought me more personal space. I even cheered when she entered her room on her own without an escort. (Naturally, I did need to turn the light on for her, but we're big believers in baby steps.)

We're still going to work on stranger danger, and I'm going to work with Jen to get some tips put together that focus on the little kids out there

After all, our shifts are never over until the kids are safe and sound in their beds, right?

July 27, 2010

Flipping the fuck out in the entry way of Walmart is not how I wanted to start my weekend.

Yet, that I did.

My intention was a quick trip in with Sprite, pick up some groceries, and get home so I could get dinner in the oven for us and my best friend who was coming into town on Friday evening. John wouldn't be joining us since he was expected at work until midnight to monitor for any explosions that typically accompany a mass computer upgrade.

What I got was a parental nightmare complete with "What if?" scenarios dancing through my head and making my heart race for hours afterward.

We walked into the busy portico and grabbed a cart, Sprite keeping one hand on my leg at all times as she trailed behind me, a practice I've reminded her to do several times before if she doesn't want to hold my hand.

I positioned the cart in front of me, rejecting Sprite's request to sit in the main bucket of the cart. "Nope, groceries go in there. You're my co-pilot today."

She dropped the fight, content that she had her stuffed Lady dog with her, ready to be put into the child seat she usually hated.

I bent toward her, my hands outstretched, my eyes on her, suddenly aware of a person coming in from outside, and heading toward us quickly. Our personal space being invaded, I looked up, as this person was too close, still coming, and scooping his hands out, his fingers coming around to grip under Sprite's armpits, and lifting her up about a foot.

Sprite didn't know who was lifting her since her back was to him. She only knew that she saw my smile switch immediately into a full moon of shock, right before the words came tumbling out quickly.

"Excuse me! EXCUSE ME! NO! NO NO NO!" (I remember wanting to curse, but mindful for some reason that Sprite would hear it. Next time, if this ever happens again, Heaven forbid, she'll have a front row lesson in profanity.)

This man, older, definitely not wiser, with a weathered face that had most likely seen decades of farm work, his thick fingers more accustomed to heavy machinery than computers and keyboards, was holding my child in mid-air.

A man I didn't know. A man who didn't know me. Which meant he sure as hell didn't know her.

He took one step back, and my volume of no's increased as my own body finally remembered that I should move, I HAVE TO MOVE, and I pushed forward and forcefully grabbed her away, not caring if I hurt her with my grip, caring only that he not touch her any further.

"Are you CRAZY?!" I sputtered, meshing Sprite to my body as close as possible.

He stepped back, a small smile on his lips, his hands held up, "Well, excuse me," he remarked, almost sardonic in his manner, and walked away quickly, stepping into the bowels of Walmart, toward Electronics.

My hands shook as I placed Sprite into her seat, her face still a mask of confusion over seeing her mother act in such a way. I was now conscious of our audience, dozens of people frozen in time, their only focus on me as I surely more resembled a feral animal than a woman who was getting ready to stock up on bananas. I turned to see the greeter standing less than 10 feet away near the anti-theft stantions, watching me also, a look of boredom on her face more inclined of watching a television show and about to reach for the remote.

I also didn't fail to notice the always littered bulletin bord directly in front of us, spilling over with names and faces of kids who have disappeared or were abducted in the past.

Once I had Sprite situated, I looked back into the store to see if I could spot him, only one thought on my mind.

I wanted to kill him.

The adrenaline pulsed through me suddenly, needing release. That little act of idiocy he had just performed had landed him on my target list and I wanted revenge.

Honestly, I still don't know what I would have done if I HAD seen him again in the store. I'd like to think I would drag him to the Cutlery aisle and proclaim the world free of one more schmuck, then meet the arresting officers with a smile (hell, I'd probably call them myself) asking only to freshen up before I readilly admitted to murder, but I just don't know.

Determined to check the shopping off my list, I pushed the cart into the store and made it as far as the produce section just beyond the entrance before my resolve broke. I hugged Sprite tightly, my hands knotting into her messy ponytail, her elevated seat making it easy to assure me that she was here. With me.

Then I called John, not sure how he would react to my recounting of thirty seconds worth of time. Would he think it was something harmless and I had taken the dramatic route to resolve it?

I only had to say that a man, someone we didn't know, had physically picked up our daughter and John was ready to abandon his evening's plans and join me in the manhunt.

I declined, thankful that he was in the same mindset I was, and continued down the aisles, being stopped frequently by other shoppers, mostly women, mothers, who had seen the confrontation and asked the same thing:

"Did you know that man?"

"No."

"Honey, I would have hauled off and hit him."

(God, I wish I had.)

I don't know what his intentions were. Was he thinking he would be helpful and lift her up into the cart for me? Was he thinking he was being funny? (I keep getting reminded of that gag from Family Guy in which the pervert is trying to kidnap a baby from the shopping cart in a grocery store and the mother keeps catching him and they laugh about how he almost got the baby that time, isn't it all just fucking hilarious, I will never watch that show again) Was he truly going to grab her and flee?

While I was right there, not even a heartbeat away from her? WITH MY EYES ON HER?

The world has a lot of nuts in it.

I have to think he would potentially harm her. I took that stance the day they let me take her home, adopting my Mama Bear reactions, treating anyone outside of family and friends like a possible threat. I highly doubt any parent would always assume the former helpful approach.

Regardless of his intentions, he had done something wrong. He had touched my child. Thanks to today's society and population of offenders, people have had to account for their responsibility in just looking in a minor's direction for too long.

I have been in that "What if?" scenario twice myself, both times between the ages of seven and eight, the latter happening when I was standing on my front lawn, twirling a baton, the front window open to allow my mother a clear view of my actions. A blue car turned onto my street and stopped in front of me, about 10 feet away. The man, alone in his vehicle, leaned over, popped open the passenger-side door and smiled at me.

"Hi! Do you think you can help me-"

He never got the rest of his act out as I dropped the baton and bolted for sanctuary, my mother running out seconds later to look for the coupe which had peeled away just as quickly.

I was eight when that happened. Sprite is three, still not quite there with the ways and dangers of the world.

The rest of our grocery run turned into a hard line lesson on stranger danger and what to do.

Since she's three, she needs to up the drama and the volume, screw what people think my overly protective dramatic tendencies.

"And what do you do when a stranger comes over to you and asks you to go somewhere?"

"....Scream and run."

"Good girl."

Sure, the next time may be innocent, but I'm not willing to take that chance.

(This happened on Friday, July 16th. The next week, I met John for a weekday lunch and we made a Walmart run for odds and ends since Sprite was in school. Showing him exactly where it happened, he made the comment about how close it was to the entrance, how easily the man could have walked out with her if my head had been turned. Just hearing it made me sick. I also pointed out the same exact greeter standing at half-attention, her mind more on the floor than customer traffic.)

Now I'm asking you for your honest opinion. What would you do if you were in my spot? Not knowing what the person's intentions were, don't even assume what could or could not have happened, what would you do if someone you didn't know picked up your child? If you think I overreacted, go ahead and say I did. As long as comments are respectful, I respect the comments.

July 23, 2010

Last time we left off, there was no topic since I was on break for about a week so I could renovate, paint, and basically raise the value of my blog. So, I picked the least obvious hue on the color wheel (Do you know how many shades of white there are? Crap!) and moved around a few things, but my banner is on back order, so we're kind of stepping lightly through the house right now. And please don't lean against the walls. Steady is not a word I'de use to describe them right now..

Um, careful behind you. Someone left the band saw out.

Okay, when I was deciding on what topic to post for the re-launch, I received an email from Tulpen over at Bad Words, based on a comment I had left on her site.

(Side note here. I think I've mentioned it before. I am one of those bloggers who does not reply to comments in email form, mostly because I don't have time and would rather visit YOUR site than trade remarks about what you said in reference to what I said. Now, if a question is asked that needs clarification from the post at hand or someone has an actual issue, I will jump into the comments and clear it up for everyone or just snark it up some more, or if it needs more attention, I will email the person directly. But these circumstances are rare. Some bloggers like to reply to all their commenters. I see nothing wrong with this, but find it difficult sometimes to wade through the "in response to" emails in my in-box when I'm trying to find out if I've won the Nigerian lottery or if the application I never sent in to Match.Com was accepted. Again, I have no problem with the response emails! Just don't expect me to do it. If you find it rude, I'm sorry. I'd just rather add a comment to your tally.)

Tulpen told me she wanted to jump on this week's Spin so she was waiting for a topic.

Reading her email, I realized that I still didn't have a topic so threw one back at her:

"Why don't you come up with the topic?"

She did. And it's good.

Ladies and gentlemen, (there's a few males among you, I know!) the topic for next week's Spin Cycle is:

The First Time.

Get your minds out of the gutter. (Which is exactly what Tulpen wrote.) (By the way, you should be reading Bad Words. Yes, she loves cursing, the title alone proclaims it, but the woman is capable of making you laugh and cry within one post. She is all kinds of extreme.)

This topic can be about the first time of anything!

The first time you cooked a turkey!

The first time you got food poisoning! (Possibly because of tainted turkey. A two-fer!)

The first time you lied to your work about being sick so you could go catch the latest flick!

The first time you talked yourself out of a ticket!

The first time ever I saw your face! (Like the song, hate the grammar.)

The first time you participated in the Spin Cycle! (That is a gimme right there...)

Just link it up and bring it over by Friday, July 30th.

And what better way to begin than with a Spin that was a Spin before the topic was introduced!

July 22, 2010

... "like" someone else's comment without having to actually reply in a conversation.

... "hide" someone when you just don't care to speak to them anymore without having to boot them completely from your life.

... farm land, build homes, and run the mafia/ a restaurant with only the effort of a left-click.

... poke, hug, and zing people without worry of assault charges.

... judge popularity based on the amount of comments our statuses receive.

... accuse people of being vague (Vaguebook) on purpose just to get more comments. (Hi, Sue!)

... achieve levels of greatness, even if it is retained to only a Bejeweled score.

... invite people to weird events that the out of state-rs have no chance of ever considering going to, and just keep inviting everyone until they hide you and your "Come to Ladie's Night in Timbuktu" spam.

... "unfriend" someone without having to explain why. They'll just disappear.

... keep our opinions to under 200 characters so if people are truly interested in hearing what we have to say, they'll have to request to "See more".

... zip through friends' vacation/ baptism/ birth photos at our own pace. (Or just say something nice about the top picture and pretend we spent the time.)

... bring "lol", "omg", and ":-)" to the forefront of the English language. (God help us all.)

Can you think of anything to add?

(Coming back full force tomorrow with "The Spin Cycle". I'm still waiting on my banner, but chomping at the bit to get back to my weekday schedule of posting. I may downgrade to 4 days a week sometimes, but I'm back, baby!)

July 19, 2010

Yup, some changes you notice, how I primer'ed the entire place? (My arms are killing me. Or maybe that's from the full afternoon of vacuuming yesterday...) My banner is almost ready, the stories are building up, some happy, some sad, (no one's hurt, but a murder was planned and executed in my head, seriously.), and I promise I will post a topic on Friday to begin the Spin Cycle once again. (I actually missed it.)

(I missed you more.)

(Technically, since things are still in the works, I STILL miss you and will continue to miss you until the changes are done.)